


brothers on a hotel bed.

by redhoods



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-04
Updated: 2012-02-04
Packaged: 2017-10-30 14:01:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/332521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redhoods/pseuds/redhoods
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Course we will, motherfuckers, we’re gonna do this for the rest of our lives,” he states, almost sounding affronted that they considered anything else to be an option.</p>
            </blockquote>





	brothers on a hotel bed.

Walt has his hands curved around Nate’s hips, just constant pressure. His eyes are focused on Nate’s lips though, watching as they wrap around the end of a cigarette. “You know, I think Ray might be right about something.” 

Nate chokes on the smoke he had just inhaled, something he hadn’t even done the first time he had smoked. “Say what?” He coughs a few more times, glares at Walt who’s watching him with amused blue eyes. He takes a few more breaths before he takes another hit from the cigarette, this time the smoke goes in smoother and he releases it slowly, still waiting on Walt’s response.

“About your lips,” Walt brings a hand up, rubs his thumb along Nate’s lower lip, his own lips quirking up at the corners. “You have the perfect lips for sucking,” he clarifies and huffs out a laugh when Nate punches his chest. He relinquishes his grip on Nate’s hip as the other male slides off his abdomen.

Flopping down next to Walt, Nate takes another drag off the cigarette, holding it between his lips as he shoves at the blonde’s side until he budges over to make more room. He frowns some at Walt when the other male steals his cigarette. “I’m not letting you hang out with Ray anymore,” he states, promptly curling himself into Walt’s side, his fingers dancing slowly down the bare skin of Walt’s chest.

Curling his arm around Nate’s back, Walt lets him take his cigarette back, “Gonna tie me up and keep my in your closet?”

Nate twisted some, reaching behind himself to put the cigarette out in the ash tray before turning back, sprawling himself over Walt’s chest once more. “I think that’d be more of a punishment for me than you,” is his response, chin digging into Walt’s chest as he peers up at the other male, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “‘sides, then Ray would just come bug me himself.”

“That he would. Persistent mother fucker.”

“Well, he’s your friend,” Nate grins. He likes Ray, he’d consider Ray a friend, but Ray and Walt’s friendship is something else.

Walt chuckles and nods, “Indeed.” 

\--

“Wait. I have to know,” Walt starts, leaning forwards and Nate almost gets tipped off his own chair because of Walt’s arm across the back of his chair. “How did you two even meet?” He leans back once he’s answered the question, flashes Nate a smile, takes a drink of his beer as he turns his attention back to Brad and Ray across from them.

Ray opens his mouth to speak but Brad already has his arm curved most of the way around the brunette and just as Ray starts to talk, Brad’s hand claps over his mouth. “Ray, they don’t want whatever twisted story you’ve cooked up. They want the real story,” he states, but Nate can see the corners of Brad’s lips lifting up a fraction and has a feeling that even Brad’s story won’t be the full truth.

Nate brings his bottle up to his lips and takes another swig of it, feeling Walt’s hand rest against his neck. “We learned a while ago just to take Ray’s stories with a grain of salt,” he states, flashing Ray a cheeky grin.

“Oh, come on, homes, that story about Walt and me was 100% fact!”

“Fiction,” Walt coughs, grinning and Brad feels like he missed a piece of information but doesn’t comment, watching the three trade remarks.

Brad doesn’t notice when the attention is back on him until one of Ray’s thin fingers finds its way between his ribs. “So you want to know the big mystery?” He has their full attention, even Ray’s. “I was the one that brought his laptop back from the brink of death and from the early nineties.”

The reaction from Walt is immediate and he’s opening his mouth to comment when Ray practically climbs across the table to clamp a hand over Walt’s mouth, looking slightly more deranged than normal. “Not a word, Hasser, not a word.”

Nate shrugs at Brad when the other male shoots him a confused look. “I stopped asking.”

\--

Brad isn’t sure what he’s doing but Ray is climbing all over him, trying to reach something on one of the end tables above their heads. “Ray, what the fuck are you trying to get to?” He asks, bringing a hand up just in time to catch Ray’s elbow before it meets his nose.

“Want the lighter, homes, need a cigarette,” Ray states, bracing himself with a hand on Brad’s shoulder as he continues to try and reach up on the end table, fumbling around.

Walt chuckles from where he’s seat in the lazy boy seat, Nate slumped down against his chest. “Little to the left, Ray, you almost got it,” he murmurs, takes a drink from the bottle in his hand, movements slow as he tries not to jostle the sleeping man in his lap too much.

Shaking his head, Brad leans to the right, wincing at the way the couch is digging into his back as he reaches up as well, his fingers closing around the lighter. “I got it, Ray,” he states, his other hand splayed across Ray’s back, trying to keep the brunette from wiggling.

They settle back down, Brad’s back against the couch and Ray facing him, his legs on either side of Brad’s. “Thanks, homes,” Ray says, quiet as he settles down against the blonde, fishing a beat up back of cigarettes out of his jeans pocket.

“Time is it?” Nate slurs, blinks his eyes to adjust to the medium lighting in the room, rubs a hand over his face. He sits up slowly, careful not to crush Walt as he stretches out with a yawn. He settles back against Walt, cheek pressed to the other man’s chest, pulling his legs from over the arm of the chair before he completely loses feeling in his toes.

“Almost two,” Brad responds, lighting Ray’s cigarette for him, letting the lighter drop to the ground and replacing it with his beer bottle.

Ray tries not to blow too much smoke in Brad’s face, sits back on his heels, and looks in the direction of Walt and Nate. “Way to fall asleep on us, Nate,” he says then, grinning lazily before he takes another drag from his cigarette, dark eyes going back to Brad.

“Feel better?” Walt asks softly, forehead pressed against Nate’s temple, his hand gently rubbing over Nate’s side, rucking his shirt up. He smiles at Nate’s nod, nods as well, linking his own hands together over the other man’s side as he settles back into the chair.

\--

“Ow, fucker, what was that for?” Walt glares at Ray, kicks out a leg to the other male’s chair and doesn’t move when the chair topples Ray onto the floor.

“What was that?” Brad’s voice carries from down the hall.

Ray glares back at Walt, ignores Brad as he gets off the floor, lifting his chair back to its right position, seemingly attempting to make as much noise as possible while he does so before he drops himself back into the chair. “Nothing, Bradley!”

Brad isn’t quiet as he comes down the hall, a smudge of shaving cream across his cheek and a damp towel in his hand. “You two need to get yourselves together,” is all he says, eyebrow lifting up in a challenge as he wipes the rest of his face down with the towel in his hand. “Fighting isn’t going to change what happened and it sure as hell isn’t going to make you feel any better.”

Walt pushes himself up from the table, “Whatever, Brad.”

Grabbing Ray’s shoulder as he stands, Brad shakes his head, squeezing gently. “Let him go.”

“I shouldn’t have said what I did though,” Ray looks lost and Brad sort of hates it. “Walt’s my best friend and the one time he actually needs me to be there for him, I fuck up.”

“You didn’t fuck up, Ray,” Brad isn’t really sure what to say so he just wraps his arms around Ray and pulls the smaller man against him. “It’s going to be okay.”

\--

Walt doesn’t look at anyone as he walks down the hall, focused solely on moving one foot in front of the other until he gets to the door of the hospital room and he can’t seem to get the messages from his brain is his feet anymore. It might have something to do with the sight of Nate in a hospital bed, but the other man notices his presence and Walt’s feet are moving again. “Nate.”

Nate smiles, lifts one of his hands and drops it almost immediately when the iv pulls, before he lifts his other hand and reaches out for Walt. “Walt,” he states softly, his voice a little scratchy as he slides himself over on the hospital bed, patting the spot next for him.

He’s on the bed before he can stop himself, laying down next to Nate, taking everything in with blue eyes. “I was so worried, they wouldn’t let me into see you, and you were pale, and,” he stops, pressing his lips gently to Nate’s. It’s only a slide of dry lips against dry lips but it calms Walt down.

“It’s okay, I’m okay,” Nate states, running his fingers over Walt’s cheek. “What happened?”

Walt tips his head into Nate’s touch. “Ray.”

Sighing, Nate shakes his head and settles back against the pillows. “I’m out of it for one night and everything falls to pieces,” he murmurs, means it to be teasing, but the serious look that Walt takes on tells him he fell a little short on that.

“We thought...I thought...” Walt stops once more, shakes his head. He licks his lips and sucks in a breath. “It didn’t fall to pieces,” he states, voice slow as if he’s making sure he’s using the right words before he says them. “I don’t even want to think about what I would be like if I feel to pieces, because for that to happen, you’d have to be gone and I’m not letting you go anywhere anytime soon.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Walt,” he says softly, voice sure regardless. “I just overworked myself, stress got to me, I’m okay,” Nate murmurs, presses his hand against Walt’s chest, over his heart. “I promise, I’m okay.”

Walt nods, curls his hand around Nate’s over his heart.

\--

“Walt, I didn’t almost die or anything, you do realize that right?” Despite himself, Nate’s amused at Walt’s antics, so he lets the other male continue on. “I can open doors and carry groceries,” he adds, furrowing his eyebrows as Walt slaps his hands away when he tries to get some of the bags out of the bed of the truck.

“Then take the keys and go open the front door,” Walt states, twists his lower half so Nate can take the keys from his pocket before he proceeds to pick up as many bags as he can manage so there’s less bags for Nate to try and carry.

“Suffocating yet?” Nate turns to look at Brad, wondering how he didn’t even hear the blonde come up, then notices Ray parking the car, and shrugs. He scowls when Brad takes the last of the bags and decides to wait for Ray.

“How you feeling, homes?” Ray asks as they’re walking into the house, kicks the door shut behind them. They both listen to Walt and Brad arguing about something in the kitchen, both shaking their heads.

“Better, though I’m about ready to kick some hick ass,” he replies, sits himself down in the lazy boy and finds the remote, turning the tv on low, just adding more background noise to Walt and Brad talking in the kitchen. He wonders briefly if Ray and Walt have talked yet but decides it’s their business and not his.

Ray nods, sprawling himself across most of the couch. “He’s just worried about you, Nate,” he states, oddly quiet and it makes Nate nervous. “We all are.” Nate doesn’t have to ask who exactly ‘we’ is, wants to ask when Ray and Brad became ‘we’ but doesn’t.

Nate sighs. “I know.”

\--

Brad wakes up because he can no longer ignore how hot it is, moves to throw the blankets off, but that’s when he realizes that his blanket is actually Ray and for some reason, he can’t bring himself to move Ray. Not after the last few weeks, so he runs his hands over Ray’s back, fingers tripping over the notches of his spine.

“Stop thinking so loud,” Ray’s voice is muffled from where his face is pressed into Brad’s chest. He shifts, stretches out some and then settles once more, limbs sleep heavy and warm. “Some of us actually sleep,” he adds, blinking up at Brad.

Brad runs his fingers through Ray’s hair, scratches his blunt nails over Ray’s scalp, and presses his lips to Ray’s sleep slack mouth before slumping back. “Comfortable?”

Nodding, Ray presses his face into Brad’s neck, wills sleep to come back to him but it doesn’t happen. He doesn’t move though. “Serta doesn’t have anything on Brad Colbert,” he mumbles softly, his lips brushing over Brad’s skin as he talks.

“Good to know, Ray,” Brad says, wraps one arm around Ray’s back and reaches the other out to the bedside table to get Ray’s cigarettes and lighter. He sets the two on his own chest, right by Ray’s shoulder before he lets his eyes close once more.

Ray opens his eyes, snorts, and lets them close again. “Afraid I’ll crush your nuts again?”

Brad’s chest rumbles with his affirmative answer.

\--

Nate walks into the house and immediately wants to walk back out but Walt and Ray have already spotted him, the former half walking and half dancing in his direction. “What happened to your shirt, Walt?” He asks, pushing the door shut behind him.

Walt hiccups and shrugs his shoulders, moving into Nate’s personal space. “Don’t remember,” his voice doesn’t slur as bad as Nate expects it to, but he still reeks of alcohol as he wraps himself around Nate, presses his face into Nate’s neck, and refuses to budge.

“Ray?” Nate tries, wrapping an arm around Walt’s back.

“Hey, homes, we made up and then decided to get fucked up,” Ray states, tilting what looks like a mostly empty tequila bottle in Nate’s direction. The fucker is smirking, too. He knows what tequila does to Walt.

“Nate, Nate, Nate,” Walt is pressing his lips to whatever part of Nate’s skin he can reach and Nate wonders how he missed Walt unbuttoning his shirt. He shoots Ray a dark look.

Ray cackles, shrugs, and finishes off the bottle of tequila in one go. He manages to stand up, walking a little wobbly in their direction. “Brad’s on his way so don’t let me stop you,” he states before letting out a burp.

Nate sighs and shakes his head, catching hold of Walt’s hands before they make it to his jeans, turns the blonde and shoves him lightly towards the hallway. “If he pukes in the morning, I’m going to drag you over here and make you clean it up, Ray.”

\--

Brad’s on the floor, leaning back against the couch with Ray seated between his leg. The brunette is relaxed back against his chest, Brad’s arms crossed loosely over Ray’s chest, a beer bottle in each of their hands. “Feels nice to just sit and relax for once.”

Walt and Nate are in the lazy boy like usual, Nate sitting sideways in Walt’s lap with his feet up in the chair, one of Walt’s arms on the arm of the chair, the other wrapped around Nate’s bent knees, both of their beer bottles on the table beside them. Walt nods his agreement while Nate responds, “Feels like ages since we’ve done this.”

Bringing his bottle away from his lips, Ray nods, “Has been.” He tips his head sideways, resting his temple against Brad’s.

“Think we’ll still be doing this in five years?” Walt asks, eyes focused intently on his beer bottle before he takes a long drink from it, lets Nate take it from him. His eyes focus on the way Nate’s lips wrap around the bottle before he forces them up to meet Nate’s green eyes, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Probably,” Brad replies, not giving Ray a chance to, pushes his chin down more into Ray’s shoulder before he turns his head, ghosting his lips across Ray’s neck.

Ray tilts his head, shamelessly opening more skin up for Brad’s lips. “Course we will, motherfuckers, we’re gonna do this for the rest of our lives,” he states, almost sounding affronted that they considered anything else to be an option.


End file.
